Amiss

Chapter 21 - Trey

This morning's events have me unedge as I'm still trying to process everything. Lighting yet another smoke, Ava's confession echoes in my mind. "I don't want Kyal, please, believe me, Trey." Her sweet words have been plaguing me all day since before she left for University, but I couldn't ask her to skip class for me and elaborate further. No way is my unemployed, uneducated ass jeopardising her future.

I want to do something special for Ava when she gets home from Uni, but I can't think straight. If only I could talk to someone about all of this. I think my Nan would suggest buying her flowers, but I feel something more profound is needed. If only there were a manual to all this nonsense. A Dummies Guide to Wooing your Dream Girl would sure come in handy about now.

The doubt and self-loathing starts to creep in, making me sceptical of everything Ava told me. So, I resolve to call the one person who seems to give me sound advice, but only because I pay him.

"Hi. Professor Herd's office. How can I help you?" an overly sweet voice chirps over the phone.

"Hey, Amy. It's Trey."

"Trey, it's good to hear from you again!" Amy's enthusiasm always leaves me feeling awkward. But, I see no point dilly-dallying around and get straight to the point.

"Yeah, so, um, I was hoping to speak to the Doc."

"Yes, of course. When would you like to book something in?"

"Well... Actually, I was hoping today... even a phone appointment if possible."

"Oh, sure... I'll just check with him now." I listen to hold music for a short moment and begin to wonder why the hell I'm even making this phone call. It's an impossible request. I'd have more luck getting struck by lightning or winning the lottery.

"Trey, this is a surprise," a familiar deep voice murmurs over the line surprising me.

"Hey, Doc."

"I only have 20 minutes between appointments. So, how have you been, Trey?"

"Ah yeah, still sleeping like shit. Other than that, things seem to be OK. I was able to get to the top of the stairs."

"That's positive to hear. I must say, after our last session, I thought you might be taking a step back from your therapy." I know this is his diplomatic way of telling me he was worried I was falling off the handle again. It had been a brief 45-minute session from which I didn't get anything on account of me being so mad at Ava.

"Well, ah, I've made a friend, who's got me feeling hopeful."

"This isn't anything to do with one of my students, is it?"

"No. Of course not."

"Ah, Trey, I'm a psychologist. I can tell when you're lying to me. Now, do you want to talk about her?" he asks and waits patiently. Initially, I'm angry at myself; it's stupid to lie to the person trying to help me. I simmer down a bit, pondering on how much to tell him.

"Well, I think I'm falling in love with her." My confession rushes out of me in a burst of air. A momentary silence follows, and I begin to wonder if the call was disconnected.

"And, how does that make you feel?"

"Scared," I reveal with a sigh.

We wrap up the phone call 15 minutes later. The doctor's words make sense that I'm terrified of being hurt. It's incredibly apparent even to me with my limited emotional intelligence and experience. His advice was to take it slow, but that feels hard considering I'm already in so deep. Of course, I omitted the fact that we've already slept together and now living together. If I wanted answers, I was probably better off calling a psychic hotline or picking petals off a damn daisy.